


my responsibility

by ketabat



Series: hargrove-mayfields [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Animal Abuse, Billy Hargrove & Maxine "Max" Mayfield Have a Good Relationship, Canonical Child Abuse, Corporal Punishment, Drabble, Gen, Neil Hargrove's A+ Parenting, No Incest, Post-Season/Series 02, Protective Billy Hargrove, Protective Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Soft Billy Hargrove
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:01:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26300845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ketabat/pseuds/ketabat
Summary: “Which one of you kids broke the TV?”Billy’s chewing slows down. Across from him, Max lowers her head, mutters ‘Billy’ the same time Billy shrugs and says, ‘Maxine did.’or, billy and max have each other's back.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove & Maxine "Max" Mayfield
Series: hargrove-mayfields [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2074923
Comments: 4
Kudos: 114





	my responsibility

Once, Billy had been six. Small and innocent and his hide still soft, only his eyes inured to violence.  
  
Now, Billy’s seventeen. Small and damaging and his skin as hard as his heart, just as familiar with violence as his eyes once were.  
  
‘You disobeyed me, Billy. You know what happens when you disobey me.’  
  
The first time Neil had uttered those words, he’d then stomped on Billy’s favorite toy, twisted his boot until it was ground to pieces.  
  
The second time, Billy had run home with a hamster in a cardboard box. Spent the whole day watching it, trying to find it a name. Then Neil told him to do the dishes. It slipped Billy’s mind. He was too moonstruck over his rodent. Neil had gripped the hamster so tightly, Billy still doesn’t think he’d forget the cracking of its bones as it squeaked in a fist he’s now all too accustomed to.  
  
By the third time, Billy had learnt not to disobey. To listen and follow orders. To keep his head down. To be respectful. To be dutiful. To agree with everything that comes out of Neil’s mouth. Muzzled and reined.  
  
Max came into the picture a few years later. Along with Susan and a smile on Neil’s face Billy’s never seen.  
  
‘You disobeyed me, Max. You know what happens when you disobey me.’  
  
The first time _Billy_ had uttered those words, he’d ripped the head of Max’s toy right off its body, had her crying to her mom.  
  
The second time, he’d smashed her favorite mug.  
  
The third time, he’d broken her skateboard. Curb stomped it and threw it in her room for her to find later.  
  
The fourth. Well. The fourth time he’d shoved Lucas up against the shelves at Byers’ house. Before she’d stood her ground. Before he’d gained respect for her. 

...

  
“Which one of you kids broke the TV?”  
  
Billy’s chewing slows down. Across from him, Max lowers her head, mutters ‘Billy’ the same time he shrugs and says, ‘Maxine did.’  
  
Maxine _had._ She was trying to get the color back and ended up so frustrated, she banged a fist on the back of it and had it fall to the floor.  
  
Neil nods. Once, lets his head bob a few more times like it’s on a _spring_ or something. “Again. _Who_ broke the TV?”  
  
“It was _Max,”_ Billy grits out.  
  
“Don’t _lie!”_ Max exclaims. “ _You_ broke it. I _saw_ you. Jesus.”  
  
Neil tongues at his gum, pushing his plate away and reclining in his seat. The wooden chair creaks under his weight. “Stand up,” he tells Billy.  
  
Billy. Billy does.  
  
Neil follows suit. Steps in close and grips Billy’s face in the webspace between his thumb and forefinger, callused and dry. “Who,” he whispers. “Broke the TV?”  
  
Billy’s jaw sets, heart pounding hard against his ribs as he looks Neil in the eye. Neil’s hand smells of rust and chicken when it tightens on his face. It’s disgusting. “Max did, sir,” he rasps.  
  
It isn’t exactly. New.  
  
Max knows. She _knows._ Susan doesn’t. Max wouldn’t tell her. Refuses to tell her that sometimes. _Sometimes_ , when Neil’s extra mad, she’s at the spearhead. And this. This _technique_ of Neil’s isn’t _new._ She knows how it works.  
  
“He’s lying,” Max goads on from beyond Billy’s line of view. “How else do you explain the bandage on his hand? He cut himself on the glass.”  
  
Neil’s hand loosens, and Billy wants to grip it, keep it tight on his face. But then it’s at his side and Neil’s looking down at his wrapped hand. Billy got that from punching Tommy’s face into a pulp yesterday.  
  
Turning to Max, Neil says, “Get up.”  
  
Something Max’s much too eager to comply with.  
  
“Dad–” Billy starts, choked out and halfway to begging.  
  
She stands up and barely has the chance to wipe her greasy hands on her jeans before the back of Neil’s hand strikes her across the cheek, reddens her skin, his ring cracking against her cheekbone. It rings loud in Billy’s ears, reminds him of the sound of his hamster’s bones being crushed in that same hand. Max takes a breath, looks back at Neil.  
  
“And this one’s for lying, Billy.”  
  
Billy doesn’t look, but he feels skin meet skin as if it were his own.

...

He goes to Max’s room with an icepack. Sits down on her bed with one foot under the opposite thigh and slaps the hand mirror she’s holding up. “Fuckin’ _idiot.”  
  
_Max doesn’t say anything. Just. Lets him press the icepack to her face. “You know. One of these days I’m gonna snap and tell your mom myself.”  
  
“That’ll be the day _I_ tell _Hopper_ ,” Max says back, jaw squaring. Billy glares. “What? You think I’d just tell mom and have her file for a divorce and leave you in his clutches?” she asks, incredulous. “Yeah, _no.”_  
  
Billy’s lips straighten into a thin line as he peels a band aid open. “Yeah, well. He lay a finger on you one more time and maybe I’ll go to Chief Hopper myself,” he murmurs, says it like it’s an afterthought as he runs a thumb over the fabric of the plaster.  
  
When he looks up, Max’s looking back, _cheeky,_ almost _dangerous._ Makes Billy huff a laugh because he _knows_ what’s going on in her stupid head. “Don’t go _trying_ to get your ear boxed, Maxine.”  
  
She deflates, pouts childishly as he smacks the band aid onto the cut under her eye. He stands up, places a hand on her head in the most _brotherly_ way he can muster before plodding over to the door.  
  
“Billy?”  
  
He turns around, hand still wrapped around the door handle.  
  
“Thanks,” she mutters, waves the icepack loosely.  
  
Billy’s hand tightens momentarily. He nods once. “My responsibility. Don’t try playing hero again.”


End file.
